Broker

EPILOGUE

Otis stepped through the portal, waving a dismissive hand. The Rift-amalgam shambled off to return to its creator. He glanced over his shoulder to see Riot and Felwinter dragging a catatonic Kaidan along with them. His lips thinned, and his eyes turned to Melinoë. “You’re sure she’s worth keeping around?” he demanded, nodding briefly to his other two Heralds as they dragged the unconscious woman away.

“She just needs some work, sire,” the Horrific Herald said. “Her ability will be very useful to you, especially given your…” she trailed off as his expression turned cold. “I’m sorry,” she said and lowered her gaze.

He huffed and turned away. “It’s fine,” he snarled. “You aren’t wrong about the situation.”

He stalked towards the door leading out of the forge, grabbing hold of it. He didn’t have the time nor the energy to speak with Craftsman. For now, he just wanted to rest. His headache was getting worse. Stress was weighing on him. “Make sure she recovers properly,” he said flatly. “If you have to spend some time in her dreams to clear up her misgivings, do it.”

The girl behind him bowed. “As you wish.”

He grabbed the handle and wrenched the door open, stepping through and into his apartment. He didn’t stop walking until he reached his room, his pulse pounding in his head. She’s getting closer. I knew she was hunting my old choices for Heralds one at a time, but to think she would have gotten this far so quickly. Meanwhile, I… He ripped his door open, tossing the broken hunk of wood aside and stormed into his bedroom. “DAMN IT!”

He reached up and ran his fingers through his hair, exhaling and calming himself. “...A dungeon service detail, huh?” He started to pace. It shouldn’t be a problem, they’re low level dungeons. I just… He clenched his fists. To think I’m worried about something like this! Perhaps I was wrong about Chernovna. I may need to clear up some of her points of view. She’s my sponsor; she works for me!

He hissed out a breath and paused. On the other hand, perhaps this could be used to my advantage. Riot needs to begin working on spreading the ‘good word’ about me. I can use this.

He smiled and let out a sigh. To think I would have never considered a plan like this with that damn guide blinding me, he thought. It’s far more useful in its new form. Speaking of which… He sat down on his bed and waved his hand, glancing up at the digital calendar on his bedside table.

“Today’s the day,” he said and opened the Side Quest’s tab. “Generate Quests,” he commanded.

Text appeared before him. His eyebrows rose, and his lips curled up into a smile as he made his choice. “This is exactly what I needed. Time to round out the party."

–

He looked out the window, eyes fixed on the tarmac below. The plane was coming in for a landing, and he would be facing whatever mystery was pulling at him. He let out a breath and leaned back in his seat, phone still clutched in his hand and pressed to his ear. “I’m still here,” Greg said, tapping his finger on the armrest. “You sure you’re feeling better?” he asked. “I can head back if you need me to. It wouldn’t even take me long to travel my-”

<”Gravy train! I’m fiiiiine!”> Euclidia laughed on the other end. <”Do your thing buddy.”>

He clicked his tongue and looked out the window again. There were a few cars waiting outside where the plane was slated to land. “Looks like someone’s here to pick up Medved,” he said, glancing towards the big man a few rows up, who was stretched over two seats and snoring without a care in the world. He chuckled. “I’m glad you’re alright,” he said finally before hesitating. “...I’m sorry about Haley. I had no idea it happened.”

<”That? Pshaw! That was months ago, man, no worries. It was mutual. I didn’t have time for her. That’s not fair, yeah?”> Euclidia laughed. <”Shit happens, people take new directions in their life. I’m a trooper, Greg. I’ll live. I got shot by Technocrat, and look at me now.”>

He laughed and shook his head. “You are one crazy lady.”

<”Gotta be a little crazy to be a hero,”> she shot back.

He smiled. “Ain’t that the truth.” The plane shuddered as it landed, and he glanced up to see they were already slowing down. “We’re here.”

<”Be safe, get back soon. We got work to do.”>

He nodded. “Yeah. I’ll be fine. See you back at the lab,” he said and hung up, getting to his feet and brushing himself off. The plane had finally stopped, and Medved was rousing from his deep slumber. The big guy turned to him and grinned, shooting his gigantic thumbs up. Greg chuckled and grabbed his duffel bag, slinging it over his shoulder. He walked over to Medved’s seat. “Thanks for the ride.”

“I was more than happy to!” Medved chuckled, rising as well. “A favor for Sonya Chernovna is like asking if a child wants a toy. Obvious answer.” He flicked down those hot-pink lensed sunglasses and snickered. “Do I look good?”

Greg clapped his arm. “You look great, big guy. Hot date?”

Medved snorted. “Hardly, but it is always wise to look presentable for the Chief Prosecutor. I am meeting her today to discuss some happenings in Russia recently.” He shook his head. “My representative took her own life over something terrible she was involved in.”

Oh goody, Firth. Greg’s lips thinned, but he nodded. “I see. Sounds like you have a lot of work to do.”

“Yes,” Medved said with a grave nod. “But we are taking steps to get things under control. The new representative has already been vetted.” He cleared his throat and then slapped his chest with a guffaw. “Now! I am starving! Let’s go, shall we?”

Greg followed the big man out, walking down the steps and alighting on the tarmac. He glanced around, not really sure what he needed to do next. He pulled out his phone and checked the coordinates he was given again and raised an eyebrow. Isn’t that right here? How could that weirdo possibly know I’d end up flying in with Medved? He wondered for a moment as Medved patted him on the shoulder and walked off, arms open wide. “Miss Firth! There you are! You missed all the excitement!”

Greg glanced up to see the prosecutor standing next to a black SUV with her arms crossed. She looked his way, and her red eyes met his. He turned away quickly, not wanting her to come asking questions when he wasn’t on the manifest of the flight. I’ll just poke around and see if I can find-

“Mister Wilt!” she called out to him.

He groaned inwardly. Oh, man, here goes…

He turned to her with a smile. “Miss Firth! Hey there!” he said and felt a trickle of sweat go down his temple as she fixed him with that hard look of hers. She greeted Medved briefly before storming over to confront him.

“Mister Wilt, you aren’t on the manifest. What are you doing here?” she demanded. “You’re even here without security.”

He crossed his arms and returned her glare, a little rankled by the implication. “I slapped half of Technocrat’s robot out of existence and had Medved with me. I think I’ll be okay for a brief visit.”

Leiandra took a deep breath and sighed, nodding. “Fair argument, but that still doesn’t explain why you were on a flight without being on the list of passengers.” She frowned. “Did Chernovna arrange for this?”

He was about to try to excuse himself or do anything to get out from under her piercing stare when she glanced up, past him, and went very still. Her red eyes went wide as she raised a hand to her mouth. He blinked and turned to see a man in a black coat and hat walking across the tarmac. His eyes were a glimmering silver that glowed in the shadows of his hat.

“Theo?” Leiandra murmured behind him.

The man in the coat drew near and stopped at a short distance. He looked grave, with short, black hair that hung down just to his eyes and the middle of his ears. Something about him gave Greg pause, and it was only then that it hit him. He barely recognized the guy. “Webster?” he asked, tilting his head. “You’re looking… healthy.”

Webster nodded and glanced past him, his hard expression softening a bit. “Leiandra.”

Leiandra walked past Greg and stopped a few paces ahead, still not getting too close. She looked like she was afraid she’d spook him. “You- you’re outside,” she lowered her hands a bit and Greg saw her eyes refocus. “...You look younger. What happened?”

Webster nodded again. “It’s good to see you too,” he said. “It’s been almost a year.”

She dropped her hands to her sides. “Yes. How are you feeling?”

Greg raised an eyebrow at the exchange. What the hell am I-

“Better,” Webster said before clearing his throat. “Leiandra, I’m on business for my division. I can’t stay and chat.” Greg watched Leiandra’s shoulders fall a little bit before meeting Webster’s gaze again. “I’m glad you made it, Gravitic. I know I’m not very good over the phone, so I was afraid you would not come.”

That psycho was Webster? Oh shit, no wonder he sounded paranoid, he thought. He cleared his throat and nodded. “Looking forward to our talk,” he said. “Miss Chernovna made sure I got here safely.”

“Give her my regards when you see her next,” Webster said politely before tilting his head to the left. “We should go.”

He’s the one who wants to talk about Otis? I’m definitely feeling a bit better about this now, he thought before glancing at Leiandra, who looked somewhere between relieved and shellshocked. He walked past her to join up with Webster, and the two started walking. The mysterious International had his hands in his pockets and a deep frown on his face. After a few steps he stopped and glanced back.

“Leiandra.”

“Yes?”

“Stay in town, please. I do want to talk.”

“I will.”

Greg looked over his shoulder at the woman, who hesitated for a moment before turning away to walk back towards a waiting Medved; the big man was waving brightly. He waved back before turning to Webster. “...Are you two…”

“Engaged, briefly,” Webster said without blinking as he started walking again.

“Really? To Firth?” Greg blurted and immediately regretted it. “I-I mean she’s pretty and-”

Webster chuckled. “She isn’t as bad as she seems,” he said with a small smile. “I initiated our separation. I unlocked a feature of my ability that made me believe I was going through a psychotic break,” he said humorlessly. “I was dangerous and did not want to subject her and what little family I had left to that, so I fled Greece to Russia, where I got treatment. It turns out it was not as bad as I thought, but by the time the dust settled, I was already beginning a new role in the Intelligence Division, and she was at The Hague.”

Greg frowned. “I- yeah, I can understand why things ended up the way they did,” he paused and turned to the mysterious guy. “What kind of feature would do that to you, though?”

“A Legacy Spirit,” he said flatly and raised a hand. Webs erupted from the ground in front of them and knitted together to take the shape of a double ring in the air. More strands leaped out between the two layers of the ring, combining and tugging on one another until they took on the appearance of odd letters or hieroglyphs. Webster clenched his fist, and the air inside the ring pulsed before rippling like one of Euclidia’s portals. A moment later, he could see an office on the other side of the ring.

“Woah,” Greg breathed. “Those… What were those? What did you just do?” he asked, bewildered. He felt like he had seen something incredibly important to his and Euclidia’s research. That thought took an aside as what Webster said caught up to him. “Wait, spirit?”

Webster smiled again. “I’ll explain as much as I can when we have some privacy,” he said. “After that, I’ll introduce you.”

With that, he stepped through the portal, and Greg hurried after him. There was no way of really knowing what lay beyond the portal, what truths he would learn, and what fights he’d be in for. It didn’t matter, though. He had a friend to avenge, monsters to beat, and with any luck, he’d play a role in saving the world. Hell or high water, he was going to make sure that he helped pull the world into the correct orbit.

–

The room was as quiet as a grave. Mimir checked his watch while his men milled about, going through the remaining artifacts scattered in the old museum. No one had checked on the place in the several days he'd waited between securing the target and the present. It was confirmation of what he’d already known: the museum was wholly abandoned.

No one could lift or touch Pandora’s Box, and anything else of genuine value had already been removed. He glanced up at the door to the storage room where he stood, and its handle shifted. Shrine stepped through with a parcel clutched between his hands, his robes whispering across the smooth floor as he approached.

“Is it ready?” Mimir asked.

“Yes, Cog said that it would do what you wanted it to do. Once.” The Vigilante hesitated before continuing to speak. “Are you really sure about using such a valuable dungeon reward on this?”

Mimir nodded and took the package from him. “It's a small price to pay.” He glanced towards the door Shrine had come through. Are they here?”

“The team just arrived,” Shrine said and hesitated again. “...Sir, I can't see a happy ending in the cards from this. Are we really doing the right thing here? The Pandora Committee already labeled us as…” He fell silent under Mimir's stare. “...Apologies.” He cut himself off, bowing slightly. Mimir didn’t know how to feel about the gesture, so he dismissed it as cultural rather than something uncomfortably genuine.

His eyes fell towards the tiles at his feet and the vague shape of himself reflected in it. He huffed out a breath as the doors to the storage room opened. Maximillian led the way as several geared-up vigilantes dragged a small, bound form into the room. They set the person on the ground and sat them up. He eyed the hood over their head.

He sighed. I don’t want to do this. He met Maximillian’s gaze with a frown, and the old man nodded. But you leave me no choice, Chernovna. I need you to come to me and ask for that favor. The world needs to know who claims to lead them.

“Everyone can go wait outside,” he said flatly. “I don’t want interruptions.”

The others looked at one another before nodding and hurrying out the doors, taking up positions outside the building. He adjusted his coat and brushed himself off a bit before walking over to the captive. He reached down and pulled the hood away, revealing a dark-skinned girl with short hair and a pretty face. She was dressed in expensive clothes, her shirt a collage of the Lucci brand label. She blinked a few times, delirious, before looking up and squinting at him. “Wh-what? Where am I?” she mumbled, her words slurred. “What happened?”

“Mikayla Summer?” he grunted.

She blinked again and shook her head, her eyes going wide when she took in him, her surroundings, and her situation. She let out a sigh and her demeanor shifted. “You must be Mimir,” she said flatly.

“She told you about me?” he asked.

She shrugged. “She told me enough - to do what you said and not make a fuss if I met you. You know she’s having me watched, right?” she asked incredulously. “Even so, you might have better luck getting a ransom out of Bernetta than-”

He frowned. “There’s been no movement from her people since we caught you,” he said evenly before his eyes narrowed a little. “...I see. So that’s how it is. She wants to know who took you before a decision is made…” He hesitated before speaking experimentally, “...Chernovna and her schemes.” He reached up and rubbed his throat, his eyes widening a little. It was the first time he’d been able to say her name in such a context in a long time.

Mikayla watched him with steady eyes. “She got you with one of her deals?” she asked with a chuckle. “Yep, I can talk about it with you. That sucks to be you.”

“You’re awfully brave for a woman in your position,” he grumbled.

“You’re my second kidnapping, and I have nothing of value to give you, so you might as well let me go. You wasted your time,” she said with a shrug. “I’ll do whatever you ask, for the most part, since she said that’s the best way for me to get out of this alive. Her people are coming. I just gotta wait.”

His expression went hard, and he stepped towards her, crouching down to get in a bit closer. “I wouldn’t be so sure,” he said, and his eyes began to glow. His ability activated in full, and he was flooded with information about her - her life, her ability, everything. He scoured her soul with his gaze before getting back to his feet and blinking rapidly, rubbing his eyes. She isn’t lying. She and Chernovna had a clean break, but there’s something on her monitoring her condition. Why haven’t her people moved? His jaw tightened. Some sort of protocol? Waiting to see what the demands are?

He stepped away and turned to face her. “Every person on this planet has a latent ability, Miss Summer. You know this.”

She looked away. “I might have heard something about that.”

He frowned. “You need to hear me. My eyes see all. I know you, your life, your personal history, everything now,” he said with a growl. “I used that very same ability on her. Chernovna is out of her mind, Miss Summer. Insane. You know what she really is. If something isn’t done, then-”

“I know what she plans on doing,” she snapped. “You’re right, I know who she is. And I don’t give a damn what you think or who you think you are. She’s going to save the world, asshole. There’s a monster out there that-”

“I know about Otis,” Mimir interrupted. “I’ve seen what he’s capable of.”

She furrowed her brows. “Then… why are you doing this? You know you can’t stop her, and you know she’s doing the best she can! Why not help her? Why not work with her?” Mikayla protested.

“You’re right,” he said and began opening the small parcel that Shrine had given him. “She is going to win.”

She blinked again, flustered. She shook her head and gaped at him. “What is wrong with you? Make up your mind! Are you with her or against her?”

He looked down at his reflection in the floor again, blurred and indistinct. He couldn’t see himself anymore. I don’t even know anymore. I don’t know if I’m just wandering along the path she’s already pre-determined for me or if I’ve gone off the deep end. I see all and know all, but what does truth even mean? He let out a sigh. Pandora Sickness, perhaps? I guess it doesn’t matter at this point. After everything I’ve done… This is the path I’ve chosen.

“My mind is made up,” he said. “I want her to beat Otis. I want her to win against him. That’s why I brought you here, Miss Summer.”

She glanced around, and her eyes fell on the stone box a short distance behind him. Her eyes widened. “Is that…?”

“Pandora’s Box,” he said. “Otis opened it and started all of this,” he continued and started to walk around her. “I know that Otis’ ability isn’t natural. Much like Chernovna’s ability, it appears bereft of weaknesses, and yet I know he is mortal. I know he can die. The question is, how? That’s the ultimate question. How to kill Otis; how to stop the Apocalypse.”

And make sure Chernovna expends every resource she has to do it, he thought. I want her to win; only she can beat him. After the dust settles, that’s when I’ll make my move.

“You want to get this information to Sonya.”

“Yes,” he said.

“You think I can get it for you?” Newest update provıded by NovєlFіre.net

“Yes.”

“How?”

He pulled what looked like a power-checking sphere out of the parcel. It had been heavily modified and covered in runic patterns. There was something attached to it that looked like a stylus of some kind. He walked over to her and crouched down again, setting it down in front of her. “This can temporarily push your ability up in tier, evolving it to its next form. I’ve prepared it to ensure that your latent ability, Eye for Detail, will awaken and be forcibly altered into Psychometry. That will allow you to see the history of this room.”

“How does watching him open the box help?” she demanded. “I’m not touching that thing either way.”

“Otis asked for his ability from Pandora herself,” he said. “Listen to me. The only way Chernovna gets this information is through you. My ability can see the truth of things but even it cannot see the specific history of this place.” He pointed at her. “Yours can, with some help.”

Just because Ishtar was hiding her conversations with Pandora from you, Chernovna, doesn’t mean she could hide them from me, he thought. “There is a clue in the history of this room, I am certain of it.”

She frowned. “No.”

He sighed. “This isn’t something for you to refuse.”

“So you’ll kidnap people? ‘Forcibly alter’ abilities? You’ll do whatever it takes, won’t you?” she pressed, her eyes fixed on his face.

He forced himself to hold her gaze. “Yes.”

“You’re obsessed,” she snarled. “This isn’t about doing the right thing for you! You just want to be the last one standing; that’s all it is.”

Mimir’s lip twitched as a dark fury bubbled in his chest. He stormed forward and grabbed her by the hair. “She is an outsider! Not from our timeline! Not from this world! She doesn’t belong here! No one has the right to conquer the world, least of all her! She’s going to take choice from humanity. She’s going to destroy everything our civilization has built over the eons in a matter of a decade! For her own ego!” he bellowed.

“She claims to want the heroes to stop her afterwards, but how could any of them do it? She’s deluded herself into thinking she is a dictator that will hand off power in the end. All lies,” he snarled. “I will do what I have to to stop her, to stop Otis, and protect humanity’s dignity. Even if it means becoming a monster myself.”

She spat at his feet and sneered. “You don’t know her at all. Shit, you’re worse than the other guy. At least he isn’t delusional,” Mikayla snarled.

The words hit hard. Mimir let her go and stood up straight as rage bubbled in his gut. This isn’t a vendetta. This is the right thing to do! It has to be. I’m not wrong! I can see the truth. I can see past her lies, his lies, I can see it all! Why can’t anyone understand that? he thought as he held the sphere out. “Fine, have it your way. I will have that information even if I have to pull it out of you with my gaze,” he growled and placed it on her lap.

Several things happened very quickly at that moment. She looked down at the sphere as it touched her skin, and the object flared to life. Her eyes snapped open, and her head jerked back in an abrupt seizure. He stepped back, lips pressed into a thin line as her head tossed about. He felt the wave of awareness pass over him and sensed her gaze linger on him before moving on to stop at Pandora’s Box. Her mouth moved rapidly, as if possessed, as her entire body convulsed under the strain of using an ability beyond her body’s normal limitations.

Something chimed in the air around her, and a small flicker of red light bloomed at the base of her neck. Some sort of tracking chip, he guessed. Technocrat’s handiwork.They know, and she’ll know soon too.

A glow worked its way over her body, and his eyebrows furrowed as his gut told him something was going wrong. What the-

“NO!”

A sourceless voice, familiar yet strangely alien, ripped out through the air as light began to burn through the room. He felt the world around him bend slightly, reality twisting and shuddering under an invisible weight. His eyes widened as Mikayla began to collapse. I need to know! he thought and activated his ability a second time. Her form began to blur in his vision as pain worked its way through his eye sockets. He reached up and clutched at his head as the information she’d acquired flooded into his brain. When it was over, he could make out the space around her, but Mikayla Summer was nothing but an indistinct blur to him.

I have it! he thought victoriously. A small price to pay for a second look at the truth. He pressed his lips together. So that’s how it is, Otis. Even your ability’s name is a lie. Deceptions upon deceptions. I have you now, though, and with this, I have you too, Chernovna.

He reached into his coat. Now to-

“Mimir.”

It was Mikayla’s voice, but something was very wrong with it. It sounded like that other voice he’d heard a moment ago. It was layered over, suffusing it. He took a step back and grabbed his gun as Mikayla became distinct again. His eyes went wide. Impossible. I can only use the ability on a person twice. She should be a blur. What the hell is happening?

Mikayla sat up straight with a jerk, her head tilting as her eyes snapped open, and she fixed an imperious, furious, and disappointed gaze on him. Tears streamed down her cheeks. “Mimir. You crossed a line that should not have been crossed.”

“Who are you?” he snarled.

The girl's face went stony. “I don’t think I need to say.”

He growled and activated his ability again. He felt something well up beneath his eyes as something coppery lapped at his lips, streaming down his face. He gritted his teeth as his ability pierced a veil and knowledge shot back towards him. His eyes went wide as truths about the being before him and the world that he should never have known crashed into him. He staggered backwards, falling onto his rear and staring in horror at the faintly glowing girl slumped on the ground. “...Pandora.”

Mikayla-Pandora tilted her chin up, cracks starting to form on her skin as light shone through. The first realization trickled in. Mikayla was gone, that was why he could see her. The compounding effects of what he’d done and Pandora’s frantic effort to save the girl had left nothing behind. Her eyes were cold, furious, and resigned. He’d killed as a detective. He’d murdered as a Vigilante. But then… Then there was this.

The knowledge he’d gleaned from Pandora settled, and he reached up to cup his head. There was so much more. It was so much worse than he could have possibly imagined. Oh my god. There were seals? I damaged a seal by forcing her ability to evolve. Otis and Sonya can do it, but they… they do it within the rules of their powers. They don’t breach the causality of the seals. I- oh my god. He looked up at her in horror as she glared down at him. More knowledge settled. Visions of a face that should have filled him with hatred burned into his mind. Smiling, suffering - an open heart and an acceptance that he couldn’t ever begin to emulate.

He felt so very, very small.

“I hope it was worth it. I hope humanity remembers you for what you’ve done,” she ground out as light gathered around her, and she vanished from sight, her words continuing to echo around him. “I hope you can forgive yourself, Mimir. Because she will not.”

He sat there, in the dark, alone. He couldn’t hear his men fighting the Night Society outside. He couldn’t think. He couldn’t feel. All he could do was manage the strength to ask one thing:

“What have I done?”

– Broker, Volume 4: Crime Wave –

– End –